Unwilling but Able Ch. 05

The next night was a Wednesday, and at around eight o'clock I wandered casually into Valerie's office. She looked up with a start, but as expected, a fury descended on her face very quickly.

"Where have you been?" she demanded of me. "You haven't answered my pages. You've changed your email password. What the fuck are you doing? Do you want me to destroy you?"

I said nothing to her. Instead, I grabbed the laptop I had cradled under my arm and I placed it on her table.

She looked at me, frowning with agitated incomprehension. "Well?" she nearly yelled. "Say something. Speak, bitch!"

"Shut up."

She recoiled as though I had slapped her in the face. "Wh..." she started, and faltered. "Wha..." and the storm clouds rolled across her face, flashing thunder and lightning, and she filled her lungs for a good bellow.

But the air left her as my laptop woke up and showed her that I had a copy of the video she had made the night prior, the video of me and my wife's friend Janine, fucking each other like crazy. "How..." she started, but it was all she could manage.

"Turned out that getting Janine involved was a mistake," I told her. "Well, a mistake on your part, at least. She looks a bit of a bimbo, but she's actually pretty savvy. She found your video saved on the computer's cache."

Valerie didn't understand. At least, she didn't understand how this granted me a sudden dose of backbone. "So?" she boggled. "So what? You've got a copy of the video, but it only shows the two of you fucking. I'm not on the video, I stayed off the camera! How can this help you?"

I fixed her in the eye, wanting to be sure I had her full attention. And not wanting to miss her reaction. "Turns out also: the webcam had a microphone. Have a listen."

I unpaused the video, and Valerie's voice rang loud and clear out of the speakers: "...we've set you up," she was telling Janine. "I told him to fuck you - and so he did! Such a good little bitch he is..."

"And, just in case that wasn't enough," I added, and I clicked to another file. "Janine was also able to find a copy of the first video, the one from the night when you caught me. And back on that night, you didn't feel the need to keep yourself off the camera. Remember?"

Just to prove the point, I set the other video to play. And it showed, in full and clear detail, No-Vadge Valerie on her knees, sucking greedily and hungrily at my cock, drinking me up as I came full-force with my head tipped back, and as I came she was looking up at me. And there was that look on her face, that look that needed, wanted, searched for my approval and love - the look that had always confounded me, representing an absolute about-face from the domineering hateful persona that she wore at all other times, all times other than when she would give in to some apparent need of hers and drink up every drop of my cum.

While watching the video on my laptop, Valerie's face had gone white. As her situation sank in, as the realisation that she had been beaten at her own game hit home, I saw her grab hold of some dignity and resolve, and she turned to me.

"So then," she said, quite simply. "What now?"

"Just to spell out the obvious," I began. "If you try to do anything that would destroy me or humiliate Janine, we will make these videos public. They show all the details of you blackmailing me, and then trying to force me to take Janine against her will. They are more incriminating against you than they are against me. If you ever try to bring me down, I will bring you down with me, Valerie. And that's a fucking promise," I finished.

She nodded, and I saw perhaps a hint of admiration lurking behind the cold look of loathing and fury upon her face. "Well played, Jeremy," she allowed, with a nod as though from one professional to another. "Is that all? Are we done?"

"We haven't even started," I told her, with a cold shake of my head. "See, you did a lot of things to me. You pinned me down, broke me to your will and humiliated me. Right now, I kind of feel like returning the favour."

Valerie's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't," she told me. "You haven't got the balls to stand over me."

"You don't think so?" I reached into my pocket and grabbed my phone. "Janine's online right now, and she's got the videos ready to go. And never mind the whole 'post it on the company forum' thing, she's ready to email it directly to the partners and senior lawyers of the firm. She's waiting for my call. One click, and they're sent, unable to be recalled or withdrawn." I flicked my phone open, and glared at her.

"Care to push your luck?" I challenged her.

Valerie tried to maintain a strong front, but I could see her hesitation. "You wouldn't," she hazarded. "The movies. They'll expose you too, you'll be fired too."

"No no. See, I'm a victim here," I informed her. "I may have done wrong in downloading all that porn on company computers, but your punishment is grossly, grossly disproportionate to the crime. Not to mention horrid, disgusting, unethical and unthinkable - a stupendous violation of my rights as an individual and a human being. It's tantamount to rape, Valerie," I told her.

"Bullshit," she piped up. "You enjoyed it."

"Typical defence of a rapist," I rejoined. "That much can be argued in court, and it would make for a most compelling argument. Whether it would win is debatable, but shit: it sure would attract a lot of media attention, wouldn't it? I dare say the firm will act pretty quickly to keep that from happening. They'll likely give me an enormous payout to keep me hushed-up, and they'll most certainly have your career for breakfast. So then..." And I waved my phone menacingly at her. "From whom do you care to take your medicine? Me, or the firm?"

Even as she looked at me, with the purest of pure hatred, I knew I had her. Finally, I had the tables turned on Valerie, and I was going to have my way.

"State your terms," was all she said. Which, in and of itself, was the finest submission I could have hoped for.

I smiled mirthlessly, and echoed her most favourite of orders. "Strip."

She stiffened for a moment, and I watched the thoughts flash across her face: 'No, not here, not in my office. The walls are glass, someone could walk past out there, someone could see. Or someone in another building behind us might see, it's night, the lights are on...'

I stepped across to the light switch, and turned the lights out. It was not to do her any favours; first and foremost, I wanted this to be for me and me alone. Also, I didn't want any neighbours calling the police on our lewd acts, nor did I want anyone wandering through the foyer behind us to interrupt my fun.

Valerie's office was bathed in a cold blue light, the lights of the city entering the windows, an additional greenish tint provided by an emergency exit sign in the hallway - it was dim enough for privacy but bright enough to see, with a nice feeling of secrecy despite the glass surrounding us. Even so, Valerie's sneer only cranked up a notch as she began to strip for me, as though she thought less of me for making it easier on her.

She shrugged out of her suit jacket first, before working at the buttons of her shirt, shortly revealing a black silken bra. She slipped her shirt down her arms and let it fall on the floor behind her, atop her suit jacket, before kicking out of her plain flat shoes and unbuckling her pants. She unzipped the boyish fly at the front of her pants, and let them fall to reveal a matching silken black pair of underwear.

As I drank in her always-surprising soft and feminine curves, she reached backwards to unclasp her bra. She shrugged out of it as though in a hurry, her breasts dynamic and alive, nicely sized and beautifully shaped, most firm and perky for her mid-thirties age. She then hooked her thumbs into her knickers and reefed them down, exposing her glorious little bucket, her pubic thatch recently-shaved and thin, revealing the soft pinkness of her lips.

She stood immodestly, feet apart, her body taking on a characteristically challenging set: hip slightly cocked to the side, breasts free and easy, and a look on her face that told me to hurry the fuck up and get it all over with.

"Now what?" she prodded as I stood there a few moments, taking the opportunity to finally drink her in under a more relaxed, in-control frame of mind.

"Patience," I admonished, looking her up and down one last time. "Okay: now, masturbate. Bring yourself to orgasm. And no faking, or I'll make you pay for it."

With something of a resigned sigh, Valerie obeyed my orders. She let both hands drop to her snatch, landing directly upon her spot, and she began the mechanics of manual manipulation. She did nothing to make it sexy, to make it enjoyable for me; she simply stood there and fingered herself, working her index fingers upon her clit, tucking her lower fingers down to play with her lips and to dip slightly inwards, touching herself over as wide a contact area as possible.

I knew she would do as little as she could to help me enjoy my newfound power over her. But that didn't faze me, for I already had a plan. Indeed, Janine and I had discussed it at length that day, hiding in a café down the road, laying out what I should do to her and how I should go about paying her back. So I waited until I could hear Valerie's fingers slipping and squelching slightly as her moisture began to gather, and I spoke.

"No no no," I admonished. "Don't just stand there and slap at yourself. Have some fun. Treat yourself nice."

Valerie's face puckered spitefully, and she hissed sharply out of her nose to convey her irritation. "Just tell me what you want to see," she said, flatly.

"Shut your eyes," I told her, and she did. "Now, lay your hands upon yourself gently, tenderly. Like the hands of a lover," I encouraged. "Slow down on your clit there, go for long, smooth, slow movements. Yes, that's it," I added, as she complied: eyes shut, her face struggling to contain her annoyance, her fingers settling down into a slower, more tender circular motion upon her spot. She was treating herself much more like the way I treated Janine, I noticed.

"Now take one hand off your spot, and use it to touch other parts of yourself," I instructed. "Run it up the side of your body there: palm to skin, fingers open, smoothly and slowly. That's right," I praised as she did just that, and it added to my mounting arousal as I saw her fingers trailing a thin line of moisture upon her flesh, a very faint trail of her own juices gleaming upon her in the dulled blue-green light of her office.

"Run that hand up and down your side, slowly, slowly. Let it be the hand of a lover, caressing, exploring, gentle and generous," I told her, softly. As I spoke, I began to move around her, circling her as she stood in the open portion of floor between her desk and the windows.

"Let your fingers spread wider, to take in a bit more, to feel more of your pelvis, to graze over the edges of your breast, to catch the sides of your butt. Uh huh..." I added, as she did exactly as told: having moved slightly behind her now, I saw her fingertips sweep slowly and gently along the very edges of her shapely buttock, and with a great deal of satisfaction I watched a delicious little shiver travel down her body.

I was getting to her. This was going to be ever so sweet.

"That's right," I went on. "Now let your free hand be more adventurous. Let it find your breast now. Let it hold you, feel you, caress you the way you like it." As I kept moving around her to see her now from the front, I watched as she continued to obey: her hand was on her breast, holding it gently, the fingers tracing so very delectably light across her skin, mostly about the breast itself but occasionally, very rarely brushing over the nipple - and when she did that, her entire being would stiffen slightly, she would bite her lip very gently... and the scorn was leaving her face, the irritation and revulsion was slipping away, leaving behind that beautiful look of wonder and abandon that I've seen before.

"But don't neglect the rest of your body," I scolded, as I moved back to stand behind her again - close behind her, only having to murmur to be heard. "Run your hand up, up about your shoulder and your neck..." And as she did that, I had to adjust my pants to give my growing cock room to move. "Yes, run it up your neck, around to the nape of your neck, the end of your scalp. Slip your fingers in among the strands of your hair, yes, just like that."

I took a step closer, allowing me to whisper into her ear. "That's right, Valerie," I breathed, noting that she drew in a big lungful of breath on hearing her name from my lips, spoken without scorn but encouragingly, as from one equal to another. "Touch yourself, run your hand all over your body, anywhere and everywhere. Run your fingers gently, gently over your clit, rub yourself softly and carefully, treat yourself with love and respect..."

I paused, listening as she let loose with a very quiet little noise: like a sigh with a hint of a moan about it, so very quiet, so very feminine, so very beautiful.

And that was exactly what I was looking for.

Having gained the upper hand, I did not want now to put Valerie down, to slap her down and humiliate her. I wanted something else. I wanted to see the beautiful Valerie, the womanly Valerie - Valerie, soft and sexy, without scorn. Without venom or vitriol. Stripped of all her defences and naked, naked not only in terms of clothes...

I was seeking the Valerie that I had seen before, at the height of her enjoyment. The real Valerie. The Valerie that did not hate herself with such strength, such ferocity that her revulsion spread out and smothered everyone around her. The Valerie that did not despise herself and everything about her, that thought herself dirty, disgusting, that thought her own juices were vile and foul-smelling, that exposed herself and her body to me as though only to punish me, to wound me, to smite me utterly with her self-perceived ugliness.

I wanted to bring this seldom-seen Valerie - the beautiful, sexy, abandoned and free Valerie - I wanted to bring her to the fore and keep her there. Previously I had only seen her momentarily, seen only glimpses of her, kept her at the forefront for perhaps a handful of seconds before the other, monstrous Valerie came back.

And now, with the balance of power swung my way, I wanted to bring out the hidden, true Valerie and keep her there. I wanted to somehow banish the vicious, 'No-Vadge Valerie' forever, and keep the real Valerie at the fore.

To this end, I wrapped my arms about her and laid my hands on her hands, making her jump. "Calm down," I ordered, bringing on my stern voice - despite my softer intentions, I knew that 'No-Vadge' was never far below the surface, and the spell would be broken if I did not treat her with the unblinking authority of a boss over the bitch.

"Just keep doing what you were doing before," I instructed. "Keep it up, exactly as before. Just let my hands come along for the ride."

She huffed her indignation, but she continued to obey. I let the fingers of my right hand snake down upon hers, gently falling upon the fingers she used to play with her sex, riding atop them but not guiding them. And my left hand cupped over hers, cupping over her hand as she held it upon her breast, feeling her as she felt herself.

Soon she settled back into rhythm, continuing to treat herself gently and kindly, as instructed. Her ire kept on fading as her pleasure started to build, and she was starting to give herself over to the pure, simple, unadulterated joy of a slow-boiling orgasm. As I stood behind her with my hands riding hers, I looked over her shoulder to watch her face, watching as it slowly and surely transformed from a mask of hateful harshness into something softer, gentler, pure and natural and beautiful - the face of a woman in pleasure.

Her orgasm was coming quicker now. With very gentle guidance from my fingers, her ministrations were becoming stronger. Her fingers pressed a little harder on her spot, swirling about and around and over her gorging clit just a little faster, and with my fingers riding atop hers I could feel her moisture building and flowing as it rode up over her fingers onto mine.

And as we worked together to serve her pleasure, I could see in her face that her resistance was falling away, strip by strip and piece by piece. Her eyes were closed now, her face was slack, her mouth open and breathing sharply as her head fell back slightly - and now her pleasure had found her voice, she could not withhold little moans and groans as she built and built towards her peak.

I had been waiting for this stage, waiting for her voice to chime in. I had decided beforehand, that it was the point I would become more involved. I let my fingers slide off of hers, to land among them, upon her clit - she seized up a little, as expected, but with some force I kept her going, I intertwined my fingers with hers and kept us moving upon her, moving about on her hardening little clit, slipping up and down deep within her lips and teasing out the softly-grasping shallow depths of her cunt.

She was getting there now. She was coming up on the brink. Her moans and groans grew louder, more urgent - I could tell she was totally given over now, she was ready for it, she was ready to come. I am nothing if not an obliging lover: I worked for it now, I grasped her fingers amongst mine and we worked for it, we circled and massaged her glorious moistened depths, rubbing and stroking, rubbing and stroking. And as she was dragged inexorably towards the precipice I watched her face, beautiful and soft, abandoned and feminine, eyes closed, lips open, moaning and groaning with exponentiating urgency...

And she came. She came with a quiet shout of release, and she kept coming as we kept working at her without pause, her head fell right back to land upon my shoulder as I stayed behind her with my bulging cock pressing through my trousers into her bared buttock, and she let loose with a series of wondrous, utterly uninhibited gasping cries as her orgasm surged and surged and surged, until eventually we slowed down, we very gradually let the pace drop away and her orgasm surged and receded, surged and receded like the tides, until finally she fell away from the peak and leaned back into my arms, exhausted and content.

I knew what would come if I let her repose for too long. No-Vadge would return, her face would lose its beatific sheen, it would harden up and become spiteful and harsh once again. I didn't want that, I wouldn't let that happen, so I sought to maintain her distraction.

"Okay: strip me. Get my clothes off," I ordered.

It worked. As she turned and set about ridding me of my clothes - quickly, eagerly - I could see it would keep No-Vadge away. She wanted more. She wanted more of me, more of what I had to offer, and the prospect of what would come once my clothes were gone kept her animated, kept her features soft, wondrous, expectant.

I was naked in next to no time, my cock aching and straining for the ceiling with my arousal. Making a woman come turns me on like nothing else, and it showed.

Having complied with my instruction and staring expectantly, wistfully and wantonly at my throbbing piece, Valerie awaited my next command. Amazing, really, how naturally a personality as strong as hers or mine can fall into the role of the bitch.

"You want to grab my cock, don't you?" I asked her, softly, without spite or accusation, simply as an observation.

She nodded in admission.

"Go on then. Grab my cock," I said, simply.

And she did, she laid a hand on it, gently and reverently. We probably both observed that it was larger than either of us had seen in our previous encounters, setting perhaps a new record as it swelled long thick and hard, the head enormous, round and bullet-like.